


Marine Landslide

by alientongue, xenotongue (alientongue)



Series: Clay Summertime [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Beaches, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Other, Past Relationship(s), Summer Vacation, Voyeurism, berserker enkidu continues to be a summer servant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alientongue/pseuds/alientongue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/alientongue/pseuds/xenotongue
Summary: Gilgamesh is not one to become tongue-tied and he will not let himself be, so he opens his mouth and trusts his brain to put half-worthwhile words into it.Enkidu’s hand is faster, though, closing like a cuff around his wrist, corded and calloused and strong as any chain they could form, and the moment those slender fingers wrap over his pulse point—it’s over. They have him.Enkidu's Berserker form and Gilgamesh enjoy the summer together.
Relationships: Enkidu | False Lancer/Gilgamesh | Archer, Enkidu | False Lancer/Gilgamesh | Caster
Series: Clay Summertime [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864030
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Marine Landslide

As promised, Gilgamesh pays for the ice cream. Enkidu orders a towering monstrosity of a dessert, half a dozen scoops of different flavors all piled into a hapless waffle cone, and Gilgamesh orders something too. He doesn’t remember what, doesn’t remember what it tastes like, only registers the cold stickiness dripping down his fingers and chin as he watches Enkidu lick and bite through their own serving, a slurry of color staining their mouth like blood on the muzzle of a wild dog.

It doesn’t take them very long at all to finish, crunching down the cone and licking their fingers. Unthinkingly, he pulls a wad of napkins from his pocket and scrubs at their face until it could pass as clean. They let him, tilting their head into his touch, and swipe their tongue over their lips once he’s done.

The warm, claw-sharp glimmer of their yellow eyes is what snaps him back into the moment. “A good start, Gil?”

Exhaling hard, he turns from them to drop the napkins into a sunbleached plastic bin. This section of the boardwalk leads away from the most popular area of beach; its weathered wooden stairs descend into a more overgrown stretch of shoreline. Clearly, its amenities have received upkeep to meet their demand, which is to say meager on both fronts.

He doesn’t see the point of lying. “Unremarkable, at best. I hardly tasted the confection, and now I’ve got brainfreeze.”

Enkidu chuckles with light, genuine mirth, the noise not dissimilar from the cries of the seabirds distantly overhead. “Well, I’d better warm you up then, shouldn’t I?” There’s that sliver of fangs again in their widening smile. “We have much more than just our start, you know.”

Gilgamesh is not one to become tongue-tied and he will not let himself be, so he opens his mouth and trusts his brain to put half-worthwhile words into it. Enkidu’s hand is faster, though, closing like a cuff around his wrist, corded and calloused and strong as any chain they could form, and the moment those slender fingers wrap over his pulse point—it’s over. They have him.

The thought makes his stomach flip over on itself and his blood smoulder under his cheeks. Bizarrely, this is...not unfamiliar. As they speed forward, dragging him with them across the sand toward a leafy copse, he can think of nothing but Uruk: hazy afternoons, clay rooftops shimmering with heat, tearing through the brush knowing he wouldn’t take another step before being tackled over. Himself, young and arrogant and foreign to the concept of loss, eagerly awaiting the next surprise from his one and only friend.

His chest pangs. Then Enkidu pushes through the thick leaves of the bushes with him, tossing him immediately to the ground, and his back pangs instead, less from memory than a protesting ache.

Somehow not embarrassed at being winded, somehow excited, Gilgamesh stares up at them. “...What do you have in mind, my friend?”

When Enkidu outright grins, the white of their sharp, sharp teeth blazes like sunlight. Their voice doesn’t answer. Their body does, falling upon him with such immediacy his human eyes can hardly process it.

A decade or so of age has done nothing to dull Enkidu’s knowledge of his body, nothing to dull his body’s response to Enkidu. They touch his stomach, his hip, his thigh—their lips seal to his throat, the soft underside of his chin, over and over—he can do nothing but relent. His hips roll up to meet them, his arms wrap around their shoulders. Every deepening, quickening breath he draws in is hot, wet, salt-heavy air, and maybe it’s that that’s fogging his thoughts.

Their hands slide into his pants and he groans. “Fuck, Enkidu—”

They need no instruction. He barely has time to blink before he’s naked from the waist down, his pants in all their meticulously-pressed, luxury-brand glory crumpled in the shadow of a bush and his thong cast aside with just as much ceremony.

Eyes glittering brighter than ever, they spare him just a few words. “Such a risque undergarment, King of Heroes. Were you hoping for something like this to happen?”

He squints, chest heaving as he fishes for an answer, heat pulsing between his legs. Apparently he’s hard already. “Nnh...I didn’t know you were inclined to such presumptions.”

“Presumption or not, I’m right,” they say, their hand wrapping around his cock and pumping it in one smooth, breathtakingly good motion.

His legs shake and he gasps, head craning back against the thin carpet of beach grasses. It’s barely worth noting that he’ll have sand in his hair later, not worth noting at all once Enkidu’s other hand drags down his body to delve lower between his thighs and begin teasing at his hole.

It burns a bit, at first, but his body is well-adjusted to this. The lubricant Enkidu is temporarily secreting from the pores of their fingers is also as convenient as it is helpful; Gilgamesh groans again, arching his back to present his hips more readily. Something boils in the pit of his stomach, stirring pleasantly with every movement of their fingers inside him, stretching him open.

A noise like a low, gravelly purr rumbles out of their throat. “Remember how often we used to do this, Gil?” Their pupils are huge and black, a contrast to the rosy flush from their cheeks to the bridge of their nose. “I’ve waited so long to fuck you again.”

Gilgamesh feels the single molten beat of his heart that makes his cock jump in their grip. His mouth moves before his brain can, this time, voice husky and wanting. “Why wait any longer?”

There’s a split second in which he has a perfect view of sudden, singleminded, hungry intensity seizing Enkidu’s expression, and then their hands clamp at either side of his hips to flip him over. His palms hit the ground; his ass is yanked up against their hips, leaving him to balance on his knees. He stares blankly into the sand, the fire under his skin spreading down his neck and chest. A bead of precum drips from his cock.

“So needy,” Enkidu praises, grinding the bulge in their shorts against him. Even through the fabric, it’s so hot and hard, the tip sticky where it drags over the curve of his ass, and Gilgamesh feels _filthy_. How often did he do this as a younger man? 

...Well. He can’t find it in himself to regret any of it. If anything, it could’ve served him well to do more in that decade afterwards—gods, this feels so good. The praise, the pressure, the building want, all of it has him whining breathily before he can think to stop himself.

Enkidu rewards him with a firm rock of their hips, then a rustling of fabric and a jolt up his spine at bare skin against his own. The faintly-throbbing length of their cock rests against his ass for a teasing moment, sliding back and forth so that he feels even the ridge of its head. “Want me to put it in?” Their voice is closer to a pleased growl.

“Yes,” he answers in a hoarse, instantaneous breath. “Yes, please, please, Enkidu—”

Before he can finish speaking, they’ve shoved their cock in one motion into his slick, ready hole, and he cries out, nails digging into the lattice of grass stems over the sand. He couldn’t say more if he tried through the sharp bursts of pleasure flooding from his hips up to his head, but the solid stretch sliding deeper and deeper inside him wrings wordless noises from him anyways.

The sensation doesn’t have time to become familiar. Their hips press flush against his ass, his knees tremble, and they growl again, a delighted, inhuman noise, before bearing down on him and beginning to fuck him _hard_.

This isn’t a place for dignity or authority or any other vestige of kingly majesty. Underneath Enkidu, their cock leaking precum into the deepest parts of him it can reach, their hands like a vise at his hips, Gilgamesh is their mate first and foremost, theirs to breed as they see fit. It’s so easy to give in to that.

Whether his vision blurs or he simply doesn’t care to process it, he’s not sure. They’re not visible in this position, after all, aside from a few stray strands of their ponytail in his peripheral vision. He hears them, though, their panting and deep, guttural purrs from behind him. Their pleasure sounds exactly as he’s been unable to forget all these years, all the way to the Throne, and his chest feels nearly as tight and hot as his cock does where it bobs between his thighs with each thrust.

“Gil,” Enkidu chirrs, the sound slipping out between panting breaths. “Gil, Gil, Gil—”

He doesn’t mind that he can’t muster the words for a response, only urges them forward in moans and whimpers, pushes his hips back against them as far as he can in their grip to take more of them into himself. He wants to make them feel good. He wants, so badly, wants to share the heat coiling in his stomach—

Something patters in the distance. He doesn’t care. He arches his back and lets his head fall into his buckled arms.

Enkidu’s thrusts stutter and slow for a moment. He mumbles in discontent, squeezes tighter around their cock in hopes of restoring their pace.

They hum, doing exactly as hoped. He smiles, dopily, open-mouthed.

A figure crashes through the bushes shielding their copse from the beach with a deafening rattle of leaves and branches.

Gilgamesh startles, making an incredibly undignified noise, and doesn’t complain this time when Enkidu pauses. The figure, breathing heavily from exertion, glances around the copse and makes an equally undignified noise when their head turns in Gilgamesh and Enkidu’s direction.

“Oh my god,” a voice squeaks. Gilgamesh blinks rapidly, suddenly aware of how intensely red his face is, and when his vision comes into focus it’s Osakabehime shrinking absolutely mortified against a tree trunk.

Nearly as red-faced as he is, she pulls her water pistol to her chest, goggles beginning to fog up. “I, um. I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just…”

Continuing to stare, Gilgamesh hasn’t yet gathered himself enough to stop the low noise that winds from his throat. His swollen cock throbs almost painfully.

Enkidu doesn’t pull out. “Ah,” they say, voice still rough but no less satisfied, “it’s not a bother at all.” Not just satisfied; there’s an edge of a new slyness to it.

Osakabehime doesn’t seem to know how to respond, still standing knock-kneed with a white-knuckled grip on her water pistol. “That’s, um, g-good.” It probably isn’t appropriate of Gilgamesh to notice that her nipples are hardening underneath her bikini top.

“You know,” Enkidu says, “there’s no reason you should have to leave. We don’t mind if you watch a while.” One of their hands releases its bruising grip on Gilgamesh’s hip to snake under him and wrap around his cock so tightly that his vision goes momentarily blank with fantastic overstimulation. “Do we?”

Mind racing, Gilgamesh swallows and does his best to dredge up any traces of dormant dignity. “...It will take more than a voyeur to dampen the king’s pleasure. Re...remain if you would like, mongrel.” Certainly, he has memory of having done this kind of thing before, but after so long the novelty of it is nearly overwhelming.

Another squeak leaves Osakabehime as she backs fully against the tree trunk and slumps to the ground. Her face is flushed brilliantly, her eyes dart across everything in the clearing but Gilgamesh and Enkidu—but a moment passes, and then another, and still she makes no motion to leave.

Blood drums to the time of his frantic pulse in Gilgamesh’s ears, precum slicking his cockhead thickly enough to feel. A third silent moment passes through the copse, and Enkidu takes it as their cue to begin fucking him again.

It’s only as their cock pushes past his prostate that he realizes how achingly on-edge the past few minutes have kept his body; his eyes tear up at the resumed stimulation and his toes curl, a shameless moan dragging from his throat. “F, fuck, _harder_ —”

They oblige and he twists, held in place only by their tight hold on his hips. If he’d woken any traces of previous dignity, those have been soundly knocked out once more.

Barely audible past his and Enkidu’s intermingling, heavy breath and the wet noises of their hips meeting, there’s a shuddering exhale from the base of the tree trunk. Absently, thinking of nothing but the way Enkidu continues to slam their hips into him, the way their cock fills his thoroughly-sloppy hole, Gilgamesh glances in its direction and is greeted by the sight of Osakabehime’s hand dipping below her bikini bottom.

Enkidu pulls his ass against them, cock buried in him down to the base as his abdomen tenses in desperate pulses. “You do make a pretty sight like this, Gil,” they murmur. “Fucked nice and full.”

Evidently Osakabehime agrees, because her head is tipping back against the bark, legs spread and feet braced against the ground as her hand begins moving feverishly. Her breath is starting to come more quickly, expression still mortified but eyes locked on the two in front of her.

A trickle of precum spatters the grass underneath Gilgamesh. He whines helplessly, entire searing body feeling pulled-taut.

He isn’t going to last much longer and they know it, seem to delight in it with each buck of their hips hitting just the right spots for just long enough to leave him teetering on the edge of drowning blissfully in the sensation. It’s hardly a one-sided sentiment; their chest-deep rumbling and their twitching fingers are viscerally, wonderfully familiar. They’re getting close themselves. He just needs to angle his hips a bit higher, spread his legs a bit wider—

One of their hands roams up his waist to his chest. The deft pads of their fingers tease his nipple, and he gasps as much from surprise as arousal, puffing his chest into the contact nonetheless until with their newly-reinforced hold they pull him upright and into their lap as they sit down.

The position presses their cock against his prostate at a new angle as well as giving Osakabehime a full frontal view, both of which send heat spiking into Gilgamesh’s gut. “En, Enkidu,” he warbles, brain struggling to maintain any semblance of coherency, and they respond with their chin resting on his shoulder, lips grazing his earlobe.

“You’ve done such a good job, Gil,” they purr. “Look, even the voyeur is enjoying herself.”

As directed, he looks. Osakabehime has slumped even further onto the ground, wrist working with greater vigor, sweat beading on her flushed skin. Her eyes rove up and down his exposed front with greedy intensity.

A shudder wracks his body. “Going to cum,” he manages to warn them, helpless to the building, hot, _needy_ pressure—

Enkidu tilts his head with a hand to kiss him and beats him to it, moaning into his mouth as their cock pumps hot, thick liquid shot after shot into him, and he can do nothing but follow immediately afterwards, grabbing desperately at their arm to steady himself through violent tremors.

* * *

Watching fluid arc a good three feet from Gilgamesh’s spasming cock, Artoria silently retreats from the bushes as quickly as she’d approached and comes to the decision that her water blitz match with Osakabehime has been forfeit.

**Author's Note:**

> alternate ending: lancer raikou stumbles upon them and makes everyone involved stand in the corner


End file.
